


and he was never alone again

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Hurt/Comfort, Little Pete - Freeform, Misunderstandings, caregiver patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 09:48:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: pete is a little that jumps to conclusions and has trouble with abandonment issues.





	and he was never alone again

Sometimes, it’s the only way he can cope with his own mind.

Well, not the only way, but the only ‘good’ way he could find to do so. The only way that didn’t usually hurt him, or anyone around him. Regressing was a lonely comfort in a world where he already didn’t feel he belonged in. Becoming younger, at least mentally, it made him feel safe, even if only for a few hours. 

Patrick took on the role of his caregiver naturally, already having cared for Pete in every other way because even as an adult, Pete was immature, and not very independent.

That was how life would go on between them for as long as the universe let them. Up until the unthinkable happened.

Fall Out Boy broke up.

The breakup of the band had split a rift between Pete and Patrick, them mutually agreeing to stay away from each other for a while to stop the constant fighting that had led up to and followed Folie a Deux.

It was what was best for everyone, but little Pete couldn’t be expected to comprehend that. It hurt Pete’s soul to be without Patrick, but he at least understood why they had to be apart at the time. Little Pete only had memories of the yelling, of his daddy leaving, of him being bad, of him being all _alone_.

And it scared him.

His time during the hiatus as a little was nothing more than curling up with a single stuffy if one was around, and sobbing to himself loudly in the dark. He didn’t color or draw because Patrick wasn’t there to put them on the fridge or in a folder and compliment his artistic skills. He didn’t watch tv because sometimes he forgot how to do it when he was extra small. He couldn’t make food when he was little, or get his sippys, so he had to force himself to be big to feed himself the bare minimum to survive. Playing with his toys or taking a bath and playing in the tub didn’t seem appealing either. Meds were taken irregularly, because little Pete couldn’t take them and big Pete had no desire to take them.

It had become the darkest period in Pete’s life, and even as he got better, with the band back and his boyfriend back with him, he still struggled with abandonment. The idea that Patrick was just going to leave. Leave him alone and he’d be back curled up on his bed with nobody to care for him or to make sure he was okay.

And it wasn’t something he could help. When he was little, all his emotions spilled out, because he bottled them up so much, and he became overemotional. 

One day, laid in he and Patrick’s room, playing with oversized, colorful toy blocks, Patrick had been sitting next to him quietly, scrolling through his phone, before he had gently tapped Pete’s shoulder and told him he was going to take out the trash. Okay. He’s taking the trash out. No big deal.

But after a minute or two, hearing the front door downstairs close, all rational he still had left was thrown away. He inhaled sharply through his nose, abandoning his stuffie and toys as he ran down the hall, his feet patting softly against the carpeted stairs as he tried to find Patrick. He wasn’t inside. He was gone. He _left._

Patrick had _told_ him he was taking the trash out, but Pete had forgotten that as soon as the front door closed, like it had all those years ago, when Patrick actually left.

The tears had started before he even made it down all the stairs, but once he had curled up on the floor, right beside the couch, he began wailing. 

It had happened _again_. Was he really that bad? He was such a bad boy. Such a bad, awful, irredeemable boy. His daddy never wanted him. His daddy left again because he was so awful, so bad that he didn’t want to be near him anymore. He was so _disgusting_.

Even though he believed Patrick wasn’t coming back, he still cried out for him, noises that sounded like ‘daddy’ and ‘patpat’ coming out between gasping breaths and sobs.

Seconds after Patrick returned, he was on Pete, confused and terrified of what had happened to cause his baby to be reduced to such a state.

He took Pete into his arms, allowing Pete to continue his fearful crying, clinging to Patrick.

“Pete, baby, are you okay?”

No response.

“Baby, what happened?”

Nothing.

“Baby? It’s okay, you’re okay, baby boy. Everything’s okay.”

Pete groaned, hiccuping, “N-no..”

“What’s going on, baby?” Patrick held Pete closer, which Pete, seemingly trying to fuse himself to Patrick, didn’t mind.

“T-thought you were gone..” Pete hiccuped our a response before going back to crying.

Patrick’s eyes widened and he rubbed circles onto Pete’s back, “Oh Gosh, baby, I would never.. Petey, I would never leave you like that. Never ever, baby.”

Patrick was shorter than Pete, and certainly no athlete, but he had little issues with scooping Pete up into his arms and carrying him back upstairs, into their room, humming softly and Pete was beginning to calm down, sniffling and clinging to Patrick’s shirt.

When Patrick placed Pete to sit on their bed, Pete made a loud noise of protest, clinging onto Patrick tighter.

“Panda, it’s okay, I’m right here.” Patrick was speaking softly, nearly a whisper, “I promise I’m not leaving, okay? But I need you to let go of me for a minute, can you do that for me, baby?”

Pete whimpered, biting his lip and hesitantly releasing his death grip.

“Good boy, Petey.” 

Pete felt his heart grow fuzzy.

Pete stayed sat obediently on the bed, refusing to take his eyes off of Patrick as he put away Pete’s toys and began fishing around for something.

Eventually, the something turned into his pacifier, a blanket, and a purple stuffed bunny(Ollie, of course, that’s his name). Pete eagerly accepted the paci and stuffie after Patrick rejoined him on the bed.

Patrick laid on the bed, inviting Pete to lay on top of him, then pulling the blanket over both of their bodies.

“I’m sorry for scaring you earlier, baby boy.” Patrick tucked his head above Pete’s, “You know I’d never leave you, right baby? I’d be really lost without you with me.”

“Daddy don’t need me.” Pete mumbled around his paci.

Patrick lightly shushed Pete, “That’s not true, baby. I love you so much, I need you in my life. I love you so, so much, Panda.”

Pete sniffled, “Love you too, daddy.”

Nothing felt safer than Patrick’s arms, curled perfectly around Pete, pulling him gently but firmly against his chest, peppering small, soft kisses on Pete’s face. Occasionally, Patrick would squeeze his arms a little tighter around Pete as if to say ‘i’m still here, i’m not going anywhere’.

Not going anywhere. Pete would never be alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> it’s not direct projection because mine never came back :,,,,,,,,,^
> 
> hope you enjoyed! i wrote this on my phone so you know it’s upmost quality!


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